


What Lips My Lips Have Kissed

by GillianInOz



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 22:24:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12898101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GillianInOz/pseuds/GillianInOz
Summary: James seeks oblivion, but ends up with the one person who can truly understand his desperate needs.





	What Lips My Lips Have Kissed

“I wanted to apologise,” James said. 

Lewis sliced a hand through the air. “We’re all done with that,” he said. “We’ll put it behind us.”

“Thank you, sir, I appreciate it,” James said. “But there’s more to it than that. I owe you this, because I pushed you to ask the question, and then made you angry with what seemed to be me fobbing you off.” James gripped his beer glass, gazing out at the serene scene of the Cherwell flowing by towards the sunset. 

Lewis knew enough to stay silent. James wasn’t finished, he was gathering himself to speak. Lewis couldn’t say he knew the lad well, but he knew him well enough to recognise how hard it was for him to share anything personal.

“I told you that there wasn’t a straight line,” James said slowly. “And I suppose I meant there wasn’t one for me. There might have been, once,” he said with a frown. “I’ll never know.”

“I don’t understand,” Lewis said gently as the silence lengthened. Around them life in the quiet beer garden went on. People sat at the wooden tables and talked quietly. There was just something about this place that didn’t encourage madcap laughter or loud chat.

James sighed, a deep breath. “Before I had a chance to find out who, or what I might have become,” he said slowly. “When I was still just a little boy…” He stopped, swallowing hard, eyes still fixed on the sluggish river, but clearly not seeing it at all.

And Robbie knew then, ice taking hold of his heart, his beer going sour in his belly, he was a seasoned enough copper to know what was coming next. He didn’t want to hear it, but James seemed to need to say it, if only he had the courage to speak the words. Robbie willed James to find the courage, sensing he needed to speak of this. For James, of all people, to share something of his past, he must need to say it aloud.

So Robbie waited, guts churning. Oh, but he didn’t want to be right.

“There was a man,” James said, and Robbie closed his eyes, grief clutching his heart. “And by the time this man was done with me, who I might have been was gone. And who was left didn’t have the chance to discover who he might have been. He had too many memories a little child shouldn’t have.” James huffed self deprecatingly and shot Lewis a glance. “I did, I mean. Somehow one finds it easier to talk in the third person about such things.”

“Hathaway, man,” Lewis said thickly. “James,” he amended. “I’m so sorry.”

James shrugged in that loose limbed way he had. “I wanted you to know,” he said. “Why this was all so hard for me. Because I did care about Will. And if it hadn’t been for that man all those years ago, maybe I could have been kinder to Will when he needed it.”

Robbie nodded his understanding. James looked so young sitting there hunched over his drink. So damaged, Robbie thought. And didn’t this explain so much about his enigmatic sergeant? His moods, his withdrawals, his solitude.

“Is that why you chose the priesthood?” Robbie ventured, and James looked a little surprised. 

“The celibacy, you mean?” He shrugged again. “I didn’t need vows for that. I can count on one hand the…” He broke off, quirked a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry, sir. Too much information.”

“You can tell me anything you want,” Lewis said roughly. “Anything, any time. Or not, if that’s what you want. If you just want company, someone to have a drink with.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” James frowned and turned to him. “I hope you don’t think I’m making excuses for my mistakes, because I’m not. I just wanted you to understand the reason behind what I did. Why I lied to you.”

Lewis waved that away. “We won’t speak of it again. It’s forgiven,” he said. “And I hope we really can put it behind us now.”

“And I hope you won’t treat me any differently,” James said, looking him squarely in the eye. 

“I won’t,” Lewis promised, meaning it. “And for the record, James, I wouldn’t have treated you any differently no matter what your answer would have been. To the question you pushed me to ask.”

James nodded. “I think I knew that.”

They drank for a while in peaceful silence, and Lewis was glad of the drink in his hand to stop his fingers shaking. He needed time to absorb this, to grieve for the little boy James, to put his shields back up so that grief wouldn’t show to the adult James. 

“James,” he said reluctantly. “I have to ask, as a copper, as a father. That man…”

James’s face closed up. 

“Ah, I’m not going to interrogate you, lad,” Lewis assured him. “I just need to know. Is he still out there?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” James said. “I’m not fobbing you off, but I honestly can’t tell you. I’ve blocked a lot of things out from that time, survival instinct I suppose. I can’t tell you because I don’t know for sure who he is. I sometimes wonder if I’ll see him someday, and just know. Or if I have seen him, talked to him, interviewed him, and never knew.”

“That sounds…” Terrifying, Robbie thought. 

“Maybe one day,” James mused. “Maybe one day I’ll see him and I’ll know.”

“I hope I’m there if you do,” Lewis said fervently, meaning it on so many levels. The silence stretched again, putting the requisite distance between the revelations of the past and James’ clear desire for the conversation to be over.

“You know,” Robbie mused. “I could murder a curry. What do you think?”

“Didn’t you have curry last night?” James smiled into his beer, his shoulders relaxing a little.

“So? I’m a free agent, I can have curry whenever I want.”

“I’m only thinking of your stomach, sir,” James said earnestly.

“Let me worry about my stomach,” Lewis advised him. “Come on, feed me, man.”

They drained their glasses and walked away, through the pretty little beer garden and towards the bright lights of the city. 

888

Now and then Robbie felt James give him a look, and he could sense what was behind it. Would his governor treat him any differently now that he knew about Jame’s past? Had James’s revelation changed their easy going relationship? 

Robbie felt the looks and the concern, and met them the only way he knew how. By working very hard to make sure that nothing did change. He couldn’t erase the knowledge that James was a survivor of childhood abuse – in truth he had no desire to. Knowing that helped him understand his awkward sod just that little bit better. But he could certainly strive to make sure James understood that Robbie’s opinion of him hadn’t changed in any way. They never discussed the revelation, or in fact James’s past as revealed by the Will McEwan case. They put it behind them and went on.

Until Crévecoeur. 

888

Lewis found Hathaway on the front lawn, smoking with jerky movements, his shoulder bandaged, a sling immobilising his arm. The paramedic had recommended a followup visit to the hospital and Lewis had intended to drive him there, maybe give him a chance to broach the subject of Mortmaigne, the past, what he remembered. But the look James shot him as he approached threw all his good intentions out the window.

“It was him,” Lewis said, and James nodded jerkily. 

“I remembered,” James said, his face waxy pale. 

Lewis glanced behind him to the house. SOCO was still down by the lake, the family that wasn’t yet in custody had scattered. Innocent would deal with the press and locking the place down.

“Let’s get you to A&E and get that shoulder looked at,” Lewis said gruffly, meaning, of course, let’s get you away from here.

James followed him silently, and Lewis made the drive to the Radcliffe in record time on the quiet morning roads. He glanced across at James now and then, but the younger man was looking blankly out the window, his shoulders slumped. He was clearly in pain, both physical and emotional.

As police officers they were given priority and shown to a cubicle immediately, assured a doctor would be with them as soon as possible. James sat on the edge of the gurney and Robbie collapsed into the hard chair, feeling the night catch up with him.

“You don’t have to stay,” James said suddenly.

“Yes, I do,” Lewis returned. “Least I can do. You drew his fire and saved my life.”

“Getting Philip killed,” James said bleakly. “He was the only decent one in the whole place.”

“His death isn’t on your head. You’re not to blame, James,” Robbie said gently. “Not then, not now.”

James looked at him, his expression haunted. “Sometimes I used to dream about him. That man. That faceless man who haunted me. The truth is, I didn’t want to remember him. You have no idea the lengths I went to to block him out,” he said desperately. “How am I not to blame? If I’d let myself remember, if I’d come forward, would any of this have happened?”

“You were protecting yourself,” Robbie said fiercely. “Surviving the best way you could. You’re not to blame.”

James shook his head, but at that moment the cubicle curtain swished open and a doctor bustled in. Robbie could say no more.

888

The bullet had gone clean through the fleshy part of James’s shoulder, leaving a nasty wound, but one the doctor declared should heal nicely. The paramedics had done a sterling job of patching him up, and with care he could be back at work on light duties in a day or so. They departed with a script for painkillers and a pamphlet on wound care.

“Do you want to come to mine?” Robbie invited. “I can kip on the couch and you can take the bed.”

“I want to go home,” James said, then aimed a weak smile of thanks at Lewis. “You need your orthopaedic mattress, and I need to be at home.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now ,” Robbie said carefully, heading the car towards James’s place. “Let me drop you off and go get us some breakfast? Then I can see you settled in at least.”

“Will I have to testify?” James said suddenly. “Did Mortmaigne mention me?”

“Not specifically, no,” Lewis said. “His abuse of Hopkiss will be relevant for Hopkiss’s defence, but he can’t be tried for it. The statute of limitations is up, and it’s doubtful the CPS will look at an historic case of abuse when they have a current one to try him for.”

“Poor Briony,” James said. “I should have seen it, I should have seen what was going on.”

“We had no way of knowing,” Robbie said, pulling up in front of James’s flat. He carefully reached out and pulled James’s hand away from his mouth, shaking his head at the bitten thumbnail. “Let’s go in, okay?”

James looked at him blankly for a few moments. “I need to be alone,” he said. “I need to sleep, and process.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Robbie said, but James cut him off.

“Please, sir,” he said. “Just let me deal with this in my own way?”

Lewis sighed. He was a private man himself, and hated people to make a fuss. So he understood that James would want to build up his defences alone, before facing anyone again. Especially someone who knew what had happened to him. But his instincts were screaming that it would be a mistake to leave James alone right now.

“Promise me you’ll call if you need to talk,” Lewis said reluctantly. “Or if you need anything. Promise me, James, and I’ll go.”

“I promise,” James said, before climbing awkwardly out of the car.

“And take your pain killers,” Lewis called after him. James lifted the hospital pharmacy bag in his good hand and waved it, but Lewis was not appeased.

He had a bad feeling about this.

888

Robbie updated his notes on the case and then began writing it out, careful to omit any details about James and his dealings with Scarlett Mortmaigne. James’s past at Crévecoeur was also irrelevant to the case, and would remain so as long as Augustus Mortmaigne had the sense to keep his mouth shut. It made Robbie’s gut ache to think how many lives that old monster had marred, how many like James there were out there, tormented by memories, shaped by the perversions of a pedophile. 

He tried to phone Hathaway twice, once on his mobile and once on the office extension. Finally he sent a simple text. Please call me.

He finished up by late afternoon and went home, his own lack of sleep the night before catching up with him. After a quick sandwich and a bowl of soup he dozed on the couch for a few hours, but he found he couldn’t relax into a deeper sleep. Worry about James was niggling at him, and he tried one last time to get through to him.

When the phone rang out he decided he’d had enough, and he grabbed his keys and stomped out to his car. Not interfering was one thing, but he’d covered James’s arse again, the least the man could do was answer his phone and set his guvnor’s mind at rest.

888

Afterwards what woke Robbie up in a cold sweat was that he almost didn’t go inside. That when his knock remained unanswered he almost got back in his car and drove away. He told himself, his own ire aside, James was a grown man, he had the right to refuse to talk, to refuse company. Even to refuse to open his door. The last thing Robbie had wanted in his own darkest hours was an audience.

But something kept him going, had him pull out the key James had given him years before, when they had both agreed having each other’s keys might be a good idea. Then they’d been thinking of something unexpected cropping up at work, but tonight all Robbie could think of was James, all alone, dealing with traumatic memories. 

Robbie let himself in and flipped on the hall light. “James?”

Music was playing in James’s bedroom, something loud and violent, a singer screaming in French? German? Heavy bass notes pumping, the walls almost vibrating with it as Robbie walked down the hall. No wonder James hadn’t answered the phone or his door. How could he hear himself think over that?

The bedroom was empty, but the ensuite door was half open, steam and the scent of aftershave wafting out. Robbie found the stereo on the dresser and turned the volume down to a manageable level. “James?”

And then James was there, in the doorway, and Robbie blinked in shock, his hand falling away from the dial. This was a James he’d never seen before, his golden hair spiked with some kind of hair product, a skin tight t-shirt hugging the muscles of his chest, showing off his rowers arms and shoulders. Low slung pants, two narrow belts crossed, accentuating his narrow hips. His eyes… Robbie stared as James leaned defiantly in the doorway, both arms braced against the jamb. His eyes were made up, dark eyeliner, smudged with some kind of glittering gold, lending his narrow eyes an eroticism that twisted something unexpected in Robbie’s belly.

“Why are you here?” James said, his voice cool. Robbie actually fell back a step as James walked towards him on bare feet, all snake hips and long legs. Those eyes…

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” James said, sitting on the side of the bed, his back to Robbie. He reached down and pulled on a pair of socks, and then a black boot that hugged his calf as he tugged up the camouflaged zipper. The muscles in his back were clearly defined as he moved, rippling under the shirt’s silky fabric.

“Where’s your sling?” Robbie asked stupidly. 

“I said I’m fine.” James zipped up the other boot and then stood, stomping his feet into place. He turned in a fluid move and Robbie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I’m going out.”

“Dressed like that? You look…”

James smirked at him, but there was no humour in his eyes. There was nothing in his eyes, beneath the smile was a chilly blankness that sparked a chord of fear in Robbie’s heart. “Been a long time since I had a father,” James said coolly. “And believe me when I tell you, a father figure is not the kind of man I’m looking for tonight.”

“What are you looking for tonight?” Robbie asked, although he knew. Every single part of him knew, and was already responding. 

“Oblivion,” James said, walking past him. Robbie grabbed his arm, feeling the warm ripple of muscle beneath his fingers. The younger man froze. “Let me go,” James said, deadly soft.

“Never,” Robbie swore, not even sure what he was saying. James smelled of aftershave and pure, raw masculinity. His skin was still soft and warm from the shower, this close Robbie could see the flecks of green in his blue eyes, accentuated by the smudged eyeliner. “Christ, you’re not thinking. Going out looking like that? You’re an invitation to…”

“Sex?” James asked. His voice was icy, but still beneath the surface expression was nothing but blankness. “That’s the idea. Hard, dirty, and anonymous.”

“No,” Robbie protested, swinging him around to face him, reaching up and grabbing his other arm. “No, James, you’re not thinking. You’re upset, you need…”

“What?” James hissed, twisting easily from Robbie’s grasp. “A nice cup of tea? A chat? Oh, that’s right. This is why god invented beer, isn’t it?”

Robbie deliberately stepped between him and the door. “I don’t know what you need,” he admitted. “But it’s not this.” He waved a hand, indicating James’s attire.

James huffed a mirthless laugh and ran one hand across his flat belly, up to his chest, every muscle defined by the tight, midnight blue t-shirt. Then down his centre, coming to rest over his groin, fingers spread, wrist arched, long arm tensed. “You don’t like?” he asked mockingly. “And this look used to be so popular with the older men of Cambridge. You have no idea how many would drop to their knees in an instant, if that’s what I wanted.” He stepped closer, crowding Robbie in the doorway. “Tonight I think I’ll be the one on my knees. That’s what I need, sir. ”

“No,” Robbie said again, taking him by his upper arms and pushing him away. “This is not you, James. You’re upset, you’re traumatised. For god’s sake, you go out there in this mood you’ll end up getting yourself seriously hurt. Is that what you want?” he said fiercely, shaking James hard. “You want to get gang raped? Catch some filthy disease? Be used by strangers like some public convenience?”

“Yes,” James shot back, grabbing Robbie’s hips and dragging him closer. Startled, Robbie stared into James’s blank eyes, now inches from his. “All of the above. I want to forget, the way I used to forget, the way I drove it all away before.” He ground his crotch lewdly against Robbie’s. “This is what I need,” he muttered, then pressed his open mouth to Robbie’s lips, biting at him, his strong arms wrapping around his waist.

Robbie was overwhelmed, tasting cigarette smoke and blood as James savaged his lips. Summoning all his strength he shoved, throwing the younger man back against the wall. Chest heaving he stared, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and glaring down at the smear of blood on his skin.

“Satisfied?” James panted. “That disgust on your face is just what I need tonight, but the rest you can’t give me. Get out of my way and let me find someone who will.”

“No,” Robbie said for the third time, and now he crowded James against the wall and pressed a kiss onto his parted lips, plunging his tongue inside, suckling and biting before drawing back, breathing hard. James was staring at him, his mouth bruised, his lips smeared with Robbie’s blood. “You started this,” Robbie said fiercely. “You invited me to play. So if you need this, James, you can take it from me.” He kissed him again, finding James’s tongue, stroking his own in deep before pulling back. “Or I swear to god,” he whispered. “I’ll cuff you to the bed and leave you here to cry alone.”

James lifted a trembling hand to his lips, his eyes wide with shock. But the blank chill was gone from them, a dark red flush rising in his cheeks. “You’re bluffing,” he accused. “You’re trying to stop me from leaving.”

Robbie pressed his groin forward and ground his erection into the vee of James’s crotch, his gut clenching as it rubbed against James’s hard cock, outlined in the tight pants. “This feel like a bluff to you, Hathaway? Think you’re the only one who’s ever fucked away his pain?” Robbie caught a wrist in each hand and pressed James’s arms against the wall, pinning him into place. He rocked forward again, drawing a gasp from James’s throat. “Think you’re the only one who’s sought to drown his grief in the arms of strangers? I didn’t need eyeliner and fuck-me pants to get laid, I had needy little sluts like you lined up to take what I had to offer.” 

He leaned forward, nuzzled that long neck and then deliberately bit down, suckling hard as James threw back his head and moaned. “So what will it be? Take my cock tonight, or take the cuffs?”

James fought his arms free and caught at Robbie’s head, cupping his cheeks, pulling his mouth away from his skin. Feverish blue eyes stared into him, desperately crossing and crisscrossing his face. Robbie stared back defiantly, letting the pure lust within him show, knowing how it made his eyes harden, how it made him look mean and cruel.

“Both,” James said, and then they were kissing wildly again, strong hands gripping, James pressed against the wall. With a surge James thrust and now Robbie was flipped and his back hit the wall, James taking his mouth, savaging his throat, ripping at the buttons of his shirt.

“Fuck me,” James moaned, straddling Robbie’s hard thigh and humping. “Please, god, please. Fuck me.”

“Strip,” Robbie ground out, shoving him away. He was pulling his own clothes off as he crossed to the bedside table, praying he’d find what he needed. Thank god, James was a normal guy in this at least, there was a box of rubbers and a tube of slick in the drawer. “On your back,” Robbie ordered as James kneeled on the bed. “You were shot last night, for fucks sake. Think I want to drag your arse back to A&E?” He shoved off his pants, kicking his shoes across the room. “I’ve got other plans for it.”

James stretched out and Robbie groaned at the long, pale, lean body before him. He tossed a pillow at him. “Put it under your hips,” he ordered, then he climbed onto the bed and rose to his knees between James’s spread legs, grasping a lean thigh with one hand. “Tell me you want this,” he said roughly, stroking his rock hard cock.

James stared at Robbie’s hand, eyes wide as it worked up and down his length. “Christ, I want that,” James breathed. He clutched the sheets with one hand, the bandage on his shoulder stark white against his flushed skin. He flung his other arm over his eyes, forearm covering his face, fist clenched. “Fuck me.”

“No,” Robbie said, reaching up his pre-cum smeared hand and wrenching the arm down. “Look at me. Tell me you want me.”

James closed his eyes, turning his head away.

“James?” Robbie said, his voice low. “Tell me you want me, or this ends now. I won’t take you like some dirty old sod in a back alley. I’m not some anonymous fuck, not for you. Look at me!” he growled, and James’s eyes sprang open. Robbie stared into his eyes. “James?” he whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” James gasped. “Please don’t stop. I need… I need…”

“Let me give you what you need,” Robbie said, and he flipped the cap on the lube and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers. “You had the sense to open yourself up at least,” he muttered, feeling the slick on James’s ring as he pressed his thumb inside. He ripped open a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled it on one handed, hips jerking at the pressure against his sensitive prick. “This is gonna be fast,” he warned.

“Hard and fast,” James begged, and then he groaned, flinging his head back as Robbie pushed slowly into him. “Fuck!”

“My pleasure,” Robbie gritted out. He cupped James’s arse in his hands and pulled him up tight against him, grinding in on that first long thrust, and then pulling back out almost all the way. James’s strong legs wrapped around him, hauling him in, and Robbie let himself be dragged back, spearing James on his cock, pulling him until his arse was resting on Robbie’s sturdy thighs.

“Touch yourself,” Robbie groaned, and James reached for his prick with his good hand, still bracing his other hand on the bed as Robbie fucked him hard. “That’s it,” he panted as James jerked himself. “Look at me,” he ground out, then fixed his eyes on James’s wide blue gaze. “Keep looking at me.”

Eyes locked together, Robbie thrust, hands squeezing the tight muscles of James’s arse, glorying in the feel of the smooth young skin under his hands. It had been so long, so long since he’d given into this, so long since he’d found that sweet spot inside a man, felt that almost painful clench around his prick. Narrow hips arched and James’s eyes darkened, still fixed on his face.

“That’s right,” Robbie panted. “You feel so good, so tight. Feel my cock inside you? Feel it?” he growled, thrusting deep.

“Yes,” James gritted out. “More. More.”

“Say my name,” Robbie ordered. “You know who I am.”

“Robbie,” James groaned. “Robbie, please.”

“Perfect,” Robbie crooned, his thrusts speeding up. James finally broke their gaze as his long neck arched back, his hand on his own prick a blur. “Now, come for me, James,” Robbie growled. “Come for me!”

James’s cock jerked and stuttered in his hand as he came, muscles tightening across his belly and deep inside. The spasms, the sounds, the smell of fresh, young cum speared into Robbie and now he was coming, hips jerking, fingers bruising those narrow hips. “Fuck,” he groaned, and collapsed, taking care, even in those mindless moments, not to crush James’s bad shoulder beneath his weight. He moaned again as he pulled free of James’s body and rolled onto his side.

James was panting, chest rising and falling with his heaving breaths, but he still fondled his half hard prick, easing out the last drops and smoothing them down his length. Robbie watched through hooded eyes as James ran his slick hand over his flat belly and up his sculptured chest to tweak a nipple.

“More?” Robbie said hoarsely, trying to catch his breath.

James nodded, closing his eyes and rolling his nipple between his fingers.

Robbie licked his lips. “Do I need to get my handcuffs from the car?”

James’s smouldering gaze met his. “Yes.”

Robbie thought about getting his pants on and trekking outside. No, he didn’t want that, didn’t want sanity to intrude, didn’t want to let James out of his sight for a second. He laid a possessive hand on James’s flat belly and grinned wickedly. “I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured. 

888

Robbie awoke stiff and sore, but with a bone deep repletion in his limbs that made him moan with pleasure as he stretched. Next to him James was snuffling into the mattress, grunting a little in his throat as he shifted. “Been a while,” Robbie mumbled.

James wiped the drool on his mouth against the sheet and shifted onto his back with a wince. “Tell me about it,” he muttered. He opened one eye and glanced quickly at Robbie and away, blinking against the early morning sunlight spearing through the gap in the curtains. “I thought you drank your way through your grief,” he said accusingly.

Robbie squinted, licking at the swollen wound on the corner of his lip. “How drunk do you think I had to be the first time I went into the back room of a gay club and fucked a stranger?” He gently pressed his little finger to the cut and winced.

“Why a gay club though?” James thought about it for a while, staring up at the ceiling, then he snorted humourlessly. “Oh, right. Sex with a woman would have felt like a betrayal of your wife.”

Robbie grimaced. “Smart arse. That’s why you’re a good cop,” he said, a bit sourly. “You know people. You’re a damn good liar as well. You made it seem like you’d hardly ever had sex.”

“This doesn’t count as sex,” James said, indicating the bed. 

“It doesn’t?” Now Robbie considered the statement, his mind sparking back into life. “Ah, I get it. Not so much sex as a form of self harm?” 

Now James was the one who looked sour. “Speaking of smart arses,” he said, a little bitterly. 

Robbie rolled onto his side with a groan. “You think it wasn’t the same for me? Drinking till I puked? Fucking strangers? I’m sure for some people that’s just an average Saturday night, but for men like us it’s a way to take out the rage on ourselves rather than on others.”

“Well, I get why I was enraged,” James said, trying for flippancy. “But what made you mad enough last night to turn into a bad ass top?”

“My friend,” Robbie said. “Feeling like he deserved to be punished. Feeling like he deserved to be used and scorned. That made me pretty mad.”

James pressed his eyes shut tightly. “Don’t,” he said. 

“Don’t what? Remind you that you were set on a path of self destruction last night? Go look in a mirror, James. Those marks on you? I put them there. Last night I was inside you, and you were inside me.” He licked his lips. “Parts of you anyway. You can’t hide anything from me now.”

“It was just sex,” James said.

“I thought this didn’t count as sex?”

“Just fucking then,” James said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He grimaced as his fingers tangled in the dry gel. 

“Not just gel,” Robbie observed, and James looked down at his hand in dismay. Then he slanted a look at Robbie, who looked back at him, his mouth starting to curl.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” James said.

Robbie’s lips curved into a smile and he huffed a chuckle.

“I mean it,” James said, his jaw tightening as his own lips twitched. “This is not funny.”

“No, it’s tragic,” Robbie said, and then he was laughing, clutching his belly. Dried cum crusted under his fingers and he held them out for James’s inspection, laughing even harder.

“You shit,” James said, picking up a pillow and hitting him in the face with it.

“Ew, that’s got your cum all over it!” Robbie protested through his laughter, and James beat him around the head and shoulders with the pillow until Robbie pulled it away from him and tackled him back on the bed. “You silly sod,” he panted. “You silly, silly sod. What the hell were you thinking last night?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” James said, sobering a little. “That was the whole point.”

Robbie gazed down at him. “Oh, James,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?”

James relaxed back on the bed, hands cupping Robbie’s hips, long fingers flexing. “You seemed to know what you were doing last night,” he said, eyes darkening. 

Robbie’s eyes fell to James’s kiss bruised lips. Last night he’d savaged them, ravaged his throat, gone down on his cock when it was obvious James wasn’t done, but Robbie’s flesh was too weak to oblige him with another fuck. Now he found himself wanting to kiss them softly, tenderly. To lick the bruises he’d imposed upon them the night before.

James stared at him, eyes still shadowed. “You saved me again.”

“This time was easier on my back,” Robbie admitted with a sigh. “You’re still a silly sod. But you’re my silly sod, so I reckon we better sort ourselves out.”

“Do you want to fuck me again?” James asked bluntly. 

“No.” Robbie shook his head, feeling James’s fingers clutch hard at his hips. “I’d like to make love to you though,” he murmured, and gave in to the urge to kiss James’s throat. Underneath him James stiffened, and slowly, Robbie drew back and rolled off him. “No?”

James slid to the edge of the bed and swung around, sitting up carefully. Robbie took in the bruises on his ribs, the love bites, the scrape of nails. He lifted a hand, but dropped it before he could touch the marred skin

“I left my mark on you,” he said.

“You did that years ago,” James admitted.

Robbie absorbed that, wondering what he meant. “You promised to call me if you needed anything.”

“I didn’t think this was something you could help me with,” James said. He reached out and snagged his pants, looked at them for a moment and then tossed them aside. 

“If you’d wanted to get rat-arse drunk I would have been there for you,” Robbie said, resting his head on his hand. “I had no idea your way of coping was rough sex.”

James shrugged, muscles in his back rippling. Robbie couldn’t take his eyes off the bruises he’d left on that pale gold skin. “It hasn’t been for a while. Thought I’d gotten past it.”

“Not all self harm leaves scars as visible as Briony’s,” Robbie said, tilting his head to look at a series of love bites that followed James’s spine. “Believe me, I know. I was so out of control they gave me the choice of two years in the Virgin Islands, or early retirement.”

James lifted his head but didn’t turn around. 

“I drank myself to oblivion every night for a year. My son buggered off. My daughter was more forgiving, but even she couldn’t be bothered to meet me at the airport after not seeing me for two years, so there was some residual anger there.” Robbie broke off, cleared his throat. “And I drove away all my friends long before I was booted out of the country. Trust me, James. I’m the world’s foremost expert on self punishment.”

James sighed, scratching at his side. “Maybe I should have taken up your offer of breakfast yesterday. I just ended up brooding, worked myself up into a state. I wanted to get out of my own head, and that used to work.”

“Well you know what they say. ‘Wherever you go in the world, there you are.’ Can’t get away from what’s in your head for long, James. Next day it’s still there, and all you’ve got to show for it is a sore bum and cum in your hair.”

James buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. 

“Laughing or crying?” Robbie wondered, finally giving in and laying his hand over a set of finger sized bruises on James’s rib cage.

“Damned if I know,” James managed. He twisted and looked at Robbie. “Thank you. I mean it,” he said when Robbie shook his head. “The mood I was in last night… Well, I’m glad you were here to stop me.”

Robbie’s fingers found another bruise, the thumb print that matched the fingermarks on his back. “You’re a grown man, James. You have the right to go out looking for anonymous sex if you want. But if you want to thank me for virtually holding you prisoner and taking advantage of you… Who am I to argue?”

“I don’t want to burst your toppy bubble,” James said wryly. “But I’m younger and stronger than you. If I didn’t want what you offered, I could have left any time.”

“Offered,” Robbie said with a snort. “That’s one way of putting it. And don’t underestimate this old bugger. I’m tricky.”

“You certainly have hidden depths,” James agreed. “Putting aside your bragging about sluts like me lining up to take what you have to offer…”

Robbie groaned and covered his face with one hand. “Your bloody memory,” he grumbled.

“Everything you say will be taken down and used in evidence against you,” James murmured. “Your offer just then to make love to me. You know that’s… That’s not going to work for either of us, right?”

Robbie peered at him through spread fingers. “Speak for yourself, James. From my point of view a little sweetness after the bitter only makes things more palatable.” He rubbed his face briskly and sat up. “But if it’s not right for you, then it’s not right.”

“I told you once, I didn’t know what I was,” James said, meeting his eyes. “That hasn’t changed. I’ve made love with women, and been fucked by strange men. Neither really touched me.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Robbie pointed out. “So now you’ve made love with women, been fucked by strangers, and had sex with a friend.” He rubbed at the ache on the side of his head. “Uh, listen. It was a bit rough last night,” he said, awkwardly. “Maybe you should check. You know. Make sure I didn’t do any damage.”

“I’m fine,” James said, finally standing and stalking to the bathroom. He disappeared inside, although he kept the door ajar.

“Are you sure?” Robbie called, taking the opportunity to scramble out of bed and reach for his own undershorts. It was all right for a young bloke to flash his pert bum, but Robbie didn’t really want to show off his fifty plus body in the cold light of day if he didn’t have to. 

“I’m fine,” James said again, then Robbie heard the shower and relaxed, taking his time with the rest of his clothes, pulling on his pants, untangling his vest from his shirt, shaking the creases out before shrugging into them. He picked up two crumpled ties from the floor and grimaced at them. They’d stood in for handcuffs the night before, and from the look of them wouldn’t ever be the same again. One of them was lavender though, so Robbie didn’t think it that great a loss. He tucked them away in the drawer with the depleted box of rubbers and the empty tube of lubricant. 

James appeared in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. His skin was rubbed clean and glowed damply. Without the smears of kohl around his eyes he looked very young.

“You sure about being checked out?” Robbie said, pushing the drawer closed. “Maybe go to the clinic? They can change the bandage on your shoulder as well.”

“My shoulder is fine. And it may have been a while but I know my own body. You didn’t damage me.”

Robbie laced up his shoes and watched from the corner of his eye as James pulled on a pair of boxer shorts under his towel, tugging them up before tossing the towel aside.

“You’re shy?” Robbie said. “After last night?”

“Last night was last night,” James said, a tide of pink climbing his chest. Robbie stared fascinated, as the younger man’s blush ran up his neck and stained his cheeks. “The grey light of dawn puts things in perspective.”

Robbie shook his head. “You’re very young.”

“I don’t remember ever being young.”

Robbie felt an old ache in his chest. “James,” he sighed. “I can see how hard this has been on you.” He glanced back at the stained, rumpled bed. “Obviously. Christ knows I hope I haven’t made it worse.”

James pulled on his pants and fastened them. “You haven’t,” he said shortly. “It would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stopped me. Before… when I used to give into it before. The way I used to feel the mornings after…” He broke off, turning his back on Robbie and pulling a shirt from his wardrobe. “You haven’t made it worse,” he finished.

“I doubt anyone else would see it that way,” Robbie said. “A better man than me would have found a way to stop you that didn’t involve me actually having sex with you. Apparently you pressed a button I didn’t know I still had.” James was slowly buttoning his shirt, his eyes in the mirror fixed on Robbie’s. “Which puts us both in an awkward position. I’m still your governor.”

James shrugged. “You’d have been my governor if we’d gotten rat-arsed drunk,” he pointed out. “Or if I’d cried on your shoulder.”

“Maybe Laura was right.”

James turned and looked at him. “Right about what?”

“Men not talking about their feelings. If you’d talked to me yesterday, if I’d felt I had the right to push you to talk – maybe you wouldn’t have reached the stage you did last night.”

“What does it say about me that I’d rather have spent last night doing what we did than indulge in a bout of emotional blood-letting?” James said dryly. 

Robbie couldn’t help laughing. “I’ll remind you you said that. Listen, I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me. I’m not sure how much help I could be anyway. But maybe you should talk to somebody, James.”

James opened his tie drawer and tilted his head curiously for a moment, and Robbie could see the actual second he remembered where today’s tie was as he stiffened and dropped his hand. 

“It’s not going to be so easy putting these memories behind us, is it?” Robbie said softly.

“Do you want me to request a transfer?” James said. 

Robbie felt a clutch in his guts at the thought. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s the last thing I want. Breaking in a new bagman at my age? Besides, between us we make a half way decent copper.”

James smirked at him. “Really?”

“I’m the brains, obviously.”

“Obviously,” James said dryly.

“What about you?” Robbie asked, trying to disguise his nervousness. “Do you want to keep working together?”

“Yes,” James said quickly, and Robbie breathed out a silent sigh of relief. James nodded towards the rumpled bed. “Can we get past this?”

Robbie probed his torn lip with the tip of his tongue contemplatively. “I have no idea. But could you promise me something? And keep the promise this time?”

“I can try.”

“Please promise you’ll call me before things get so bad for you again.”

James considered and then nodded. “I just need to keep busy,” he said determinedly. “I just need to work.”

“Innocent will probably send you home,” Robbie said. “You’re supposed to have at least one more day off.”

“I’ll hide in the office,” James said. He looked at Robbie, his eyes stark. “I need to work.” 

Robbie nodded his understanding. “Yeah, I get it. Anyway, I need a shower and some clean clothes before I can show my face at work. And a shave, I don’t need any pointed comments about that today. Not to mention breakfast, I’m starving.”

“You worked up an appetite,” James said, choosing a tie at random and pulling it around his neck.

“You know, sarcastic remarks are not helpful,” Robbie pointed out. “Come to mine, I have bacon and eggs, and you shouldn’t be driving with that shoulder anyway.”

James looked uncertain. “This isn’t a way to get me to talk about my feelings, is it?”

Robbie shuddered theatrically. “Christ, I hope not.”

888

Robbie emerged from his bedroom dressed for work, his tie slung loose around his collar, to the welcome scent of buttered toast and coffee. James was sliding an omelette onto his plate as he sat down and seized the coffee mug. “You’re hired,” Robbie said gratefully, taking a bracing sip. 

James sat down and sugared his own coffee liberally. 

“Not eating?” Robbie said around a delicious mouthful. 

“I had toast.” He sat, just watching Robbie eat, but Robbie had spent years at a noisy breakfast table, he didn’t mind being watched while ate. In fact he enjoyed every mouthful, to the last crust of toast he washed down with the coffee. 

“Missed me dinner last night,” he confessed. “Was too busy worrying about you. Rightly so, as it happens.”

James still had both hands around his mug, although he’d drained it minutes before. “I have to know something,” he said. “Even if we never talk about this again.”

Robbie nodded, leaning back in his chair.

“How did you know what to do?” James blurted out. “I mean, telling me to look at you. Getting me to say your name. That was the opposite of what I wanted last night. But it worked for me, it… it worked.”

“It’s the opposite of what I used to want too,” Robbie admitted. “When I went looking for oblivion. I wanted anonymity. Distance. I didn’t look at faces, let alone into someone’s eyes.”

“So how did you know it was what I needed? I didn’t even know that,” James said, frowning. 

Robbie shrugged. “I just knew I didn’t want you to punish yourself. To be used by strangers. I wanted to give you that oblivion, but I didn’t want you to wake up this morning feeling…”

James leaned forward, eyes earnest. “What?”

“The way I used to feel the next day,” Robbie admitted. “Worthless. Dirty. Like I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror.”

“Huh,” James said. He sipped his coffee, brow wrinkled. “Its funny how we think we know people. I never would have guessed that you could be like that.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Robbie said pointedly, and James shrugged.

“When we first met I knew you’d been through a lot. You put on a good show, but you were obviously still grieving.”

“Wasn’t exactly hiding it,” Robbie said, embarrassed at the memory of how he’d still been bitterly striking out even after his years away from home.

“I’d even heard stories at work about your drinking. Going off the rails a bit. Sorry,” he added. 

“You’re all right. The stories were true. In fact, probably only a fraction of the truth. No one knew about my… nocturnal activities, thank god. Not sure I’d live that one down.”

“People expect coppers to drink,” James agreed. “Not so much the rough gay sex though.”

Robbie smirked and James huffed a half laugh back. “You made me laugh this morning too,” he recalled, looking surprised. “I sure don’t remember much laughing the day after before.”

“You’re all right,” Robbie said again, standing up and gathering the plates. James let go of his mug and Robbie hooked a finger through the handle and carried it back to the kitchenette. Behind him James collected the cutlery and followed him through. He deposited the dishes on the draining board and moved aside as James clattered the cutlery into the sink. 

“You don’t want me to thank you,” James said quietly.

“You already have. Besides, I’d love to be able to say last night was all for you, but you know it wasn’t.” Robbie leaned back against the kitchen bench. 

“I pushed your buttons,” James recalled. “That’s what you said.”

“I think it’s safe to say you pushed every button I had,” Robbie admitted ruefully. “So don’t thank me. Right now I’m trying very hard not to feel like a selfish shit who took advantage of a friend.”

James gazed at him, his eyes hooded, then with a graceful gesture he caught the collar of Robbie’s shirt and pulled it aside. A button loosened and the shirt gaped, revealing a stark love bite on Robbie’s collar bone. “Perhaps I’m the one who took advantage,” he said softly. Robbie drew in a breath as a long finger touched the mark, gently tracing it.

“James,” Robbie said huskily, the scent of him pulling at his gut, last night suddenly at the forefront of his mind. The smooth, lithe body writhing under his hands. Salt sweat under his tongue. Teeth gently tugging a pink nipple. He could feel a red flush colouring his cheeks, and James lifted his hand and laid just one finger on the blushing skin. “What are you doing?” Robbie breathed, and James blinked, pulling his finger away, stepping back.

“I… I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Robbie held up his hand. “Don’t apologise,” he said. “I don’t mind. You’re just sending me mixed signals, that’s all.”

James took a deep breath, taking another step back. “I’m confusing myself,” he confessed. “Last night I was desperate and angry. I wanted to hurt, I wanted oblivion. That’s not what you gave me. But it was…”

“What? What did I give you?” Robbie asked, suddenly curious to know.

James shook his head. “I don’t know. What I needed. What I didn’t even know I needed.”

Robbie studied James’s puzzled face. “I don’t understand you, James, although I’d like to. I want to be there for you. But we need to set some boundaries, I think. You say you don’t know where your sexuality lies, but I’ve got to tell you, right now whatever message you are sending is making me kind of hungry. And not for bacon and eggs.”

James’s blinked, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m kind of messed up right now.”

Robbie smirked. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

James snorted, then seemed to surprise himself with a laugh. 

Robbie deliberately stepped closer and patted him gently on the shoulder. “Come on, my messed up friend. Let’s get to work.”

888

“Will you be okay to type? If so then I’ll handle the interviews while you finish the reports. I don’t want you anywhere near Hopkiss, or Mortmaigne. Let alone Scarlet.”

James’s cheeks flushed. “You think she’ll mention me?”

“I think you know as well as I do that you’re too close to this whole thing. You can’t tell me you want to sit in the same room with any of those people?”

James shrugged. “I would if I had to. But you’re right, I’d just as soon not.”

Innocent appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised at the sight of James sitting behind his desk. “Hathaway, how are you feeling?”

“A little sore,” James said, and Robbie had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes. James had been sitting a bit gingerly all morning, and underneath his neat shirt and jacket he was covered with bruises and love bites. The cheeky sod was mocking him right in front of Innocent. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She looked at him critically. “You’re a bit pale. Are you cleared for duty?”

“Light duties,” James said smoothly. 

She studied him with narrow eyes. “All right,” she conceded. “But half a day only,” she said, then looked stern when he protested. “Or you can go home now.”

“You can always finish the reports on your laptop,” Robbie said consolingly when she was gone. 

“Which I could do here too,” James complained. 

“Look, why don’t you get some shopping in this afternoon, and come back to mine for dinner. We can celebrate getting this case behind us, and maybe clear a few things up.”

James looked at him steadily. “You promised me no heart to heart chats.”

“I have no memory of that,” Robbie said. “We can sit down like two grown men and have a serious discussion though, right?”

“I cooked you breakfast and now you want me to cook you dinner too?”

“Or pick up a takeaway, I don’t care. Use your initiative, man.”

“Maybe I would have been better off waking up in a gutter this morning,” James muttered.

Yep. Definitely mocking him.

888

Robbie stood in the Chief Super’s doorway, rubbing at his tired eyes. Innocent invited him in with a gesture, face sympathetic. “This is a rough one.”

“I hate child abuse cases,” Robbie said wearily, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. “And I’ve been lucky, haven’t had to work a lot of them. This one though…”

“Augustus Mortmaigne is under a doctor’s care I understand?”

Robbie grimaced. “Complained of chest pains almost as soon as we got him in here. That’s one way to avoid a police interview.”

“He admitted the abuse to you though,” Innocent said. “Under caution.”

“In so many words,” Robbie confirmed. He made a face. “Apparently he ‘loved them’. Monstrous old pervert.”

“Lives ruined,” Innocent sighed. “And lost, if Hopkiss is to be believed, and he killed to protect Mortmaigne.”

Robbie thought of James, his solitary existence apparently punctuated by acts of self loathing and self harm. “We’ll probably never know how many lives ruined,” he said soberly. “And I can’t see the CPS pursuing past allegations. Not considering Mortmaigne’s age and ill health.”

“Historic child abuse is a nightmare to prove anyway, even if it could still be prosecuted. Although I have to wonder, would it give closure to the victims? Or just stir it all back up again?”

Robbie glanced at her thoughtful face, wondering if she was hinting at something concerning James. Surely there must be a few people wondering about past events now that it was known James had lived on the estate as a child, and that Mortmaigne had sexually abused at least one of his contemporaries. 

“How’s your head?” Innocent asked suddenly, and Robbie blinked. 

“What?”

“Where you were struck. What were the results of the scan?” Innocent tilted her head and gave him an exasperated look. “You did get checked out when you took Hathaway in to get his gunshot wound seen to, didn’t you?”

“My head’s fine,” Robbie protested. Innocent raised her eyebrows at him and his heart sank. “Bugger,” he muttered.

888

Robbie remembered to switch his phone from silent as he stepped out of the specialist’s office, and winced at the three missed calls and three texts. He was just trying to remember how to read the first text when the phone rang again. “James?” he said, stopping dead in the corridor. “Is everything okay?

“Robbie? Thank god. You didn’t answer your phone so I called the station and they said you were at the hospital. Are you okay? Do you need me to come?”

“I’m fine,” Robbie said when he could get a word in edgewise. “Innocent insisted I get a scan of my head. Said I should have got one yesterday.”

“Your head?” James didn’t sound any less worried. “What happened to your head?”

“Where Hopkiss hit me,” Robbie said, rubbing at the spot. “With the butt of his gun.” There was silence down the line and Robbie smiled and nodded at the nurse on the desk and made his way out. “Um, didn’t you know about that?”

“No, I didn’t know about that,” James said, his voice even. “How could I know about that? You didn’t tell me you’d been hit on the head.”

“I thought you knew.”

Again the sound of heavy breathing down the line.

“Listen, I’m just heading out to the car now…”

“Are you all right to drive? Do you need me to pick you up?”

“No, James,” Robbie interrupted. “I’m fine, really. It was just a formality, that’s all. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” James said. “But if you feel nauseous or faint or anything, just call me, okay? I can come pick you up.”

“I feel fine,” Robbie said patiently, resisting the urge to remind James he’d been struck nearly two days before, and that if he was going to get nauseous or faint he probably would have by now. “I’ll see you at home.” He stopped by his car, keys in his hand. “You are at my place, aren’t you?”

“Slaving over a hot stove, as ordered,” James said.

888 

James met him at the door, studying him intently as he stepped inside and shrugged off his coat. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, really.” Robbie took a sniff of the air with pleasure. “What smells so good?”

“I was bored, so I cooked,” James said impatiently. “Why did you go to the hospital? Was your head hurting? Did you have a bad turn?”

“A what?” Robbie said absently, following his nose to the kitchen. “Is that bread? Did you bake bread?”

“It’s those heat and eat bread rolls. I made lasagne.”

Robbie opened the oven door and whistled. “You made lasagne for twelve. When do the rest of the guests show up?”

“I always cook extra and freeze some for when I don’t feel like cooking. Should you be having beer?”

Robbie pulled out two bottles and handed one to James, who automatically took it. He laid a hand on James’s good shoulder and smiled at him reassuringly. “James? I’m fine, truly. Innocent insisted I get checked out because I literally forgot about it the other night. You’d been shot, the last thing I was worried about was my hard old head. Okay?”

James frowned at him for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally. He twisted the cap off his beer and took a drink. “I just got worried when they said at the desk you’d gone to the hospital. And Innocent was off at a meeting, so I couldn’t ask her what was wrong.”

“Thanks for worrying,” Robbie said gently. “But I’m fine, I’m starved, and that lasagne smells like heaven. Can we eat?”

“Lay the table then,” James said, smiling a bit more easily now. “And you can tell me how the interviews are going.”

888

“Do you think he really has chest pains?” James said, pushing away his empty plate. 

Robbie leaned back in the chair with a satisfied sigh. “That was bloody delicious. I’d have seconds, but I think I’d explode.”

“Coffee?” James went to stand but Robbie touched his wrist and he sat back down. 

“You cooked, I’ll get the coffee,” Robbie said, then flushed a little as he realised he still had hold of James’s wrist. That his thumb was stroking the place where James’s pulse throbbed. He pulled his hand back. “But to answer your question, no. I think the old bastard is in perfect health. He’s just a coward, that’s all. Hiding behind his age now, as he’s hidden behind his wealth and power all these years.”

James nodded, absently touching the spot on his wrist where Robbie had been stroking with his thumb. Robbie took a sip of his beer as his mouth dried at the sight of those long fingers. He looked away.

“And Paul?” James said.

“Paul has clammed up tight,” Robbie said, clearing his throat. “I suppose it was one thing to spill his guts to me when he thought he was going to kill me. But if he admits to killing Briony’s mother he has to explain why.”

“That it was to stop her revealing Mortmaigne’s abuse of Briony,” James said. He shook his head. “He’s protected him all these years. Lived alongside him. Worked for him.”

“Worshipped him,” Robbie said. “Maybe that’s the only way he could deal with what was done to him. Convince himself – or rather let Mortmaigne convince him – that it was done out of love.”

James was pale, eyes troubled. “Murder aside, who am I to judge how people cope?”

“I know,” Robbie said gently. “Your trouble, James, is you judge yourself more harshly than you do other people.”

“I can’t control other people,” James said shortly. “I should be able to control myself.”

“You should be able to forgive yourself as well. You’re only human, James. We’re all only human.” Robbie stood up and grabbed some plates. “Go choose some music, eh? And I’ll bring the coffee through.”

“I know you’re pampering me,” James said with a small smile. “When you let me pick the tunes.”

“You could put on that CD you made for me, if you like,” Robbie said over his shoulder. “World music. I’ve grown quite partial to it.”

888

“So, how was your afternoon?” Robbie stretched his legs out with a sigh. He was looking forward to a shower and his bed.

“Productive enough. I logged into work and finished up my reports. I shopped. I cooked.” 

“And no brooding?”

“The key is not giving myself time to brood,” James said. “I really am okay, you know? It was just a shock yesterday, that’s all. I’m not going to go off the rails again any time soon.”

“Glad to hear it. I might even come to believe it, given a little time. You seemed fine yesterday morning when I left you as well. And by last night you’d worked yourself in to a state.”

James sighed. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Hey, not judging, remember? I worked myself up into a state pretty bloody quickly too, last night. And I didn’t have nearly your excuse.”

James’s frowned. “It’s weird,” he complained. “It’s weird to sit here talking about this with you when last night…” He stared at Robbie. “I keep getting flashes of it. You do too, don’t you?”

Robbie half shrugged. “What can I say? Having sex with someone is an intimate thing, and last night, you and I saw each other at our very worst.” He frowned. “No, not worst,” he corrected. “Intense. To say worst implies I think we did something wrong, and I don’t think that, I don’t think that at all.”

“It always felt wrong to me before. In a way that was part of the appeal. Oh, I don’t know.” James shook himself. “I’ve studied this, trying to understand it. I can give you chapter and verse about promiscuous self harm as a means of control, as mutilation of the self, even seeking to be needed or desired.”

Robbie listened, trying to understand.

“All I know is that it worked once to suppress the things I didn’t want to remember.” He frowned. “No, not that. To suppress the man I didn’t want to remember. I remembered the rest, all of it. The… acts.” He looked at Robbie. “I can’t go into details. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that.”

“You don’t have to,” Robbie said. 

“I suppose what I’m trying to say,” James said slowly. “Is that it’s too late, isn’t it? The worst is out now, its in my head. It’s no longer some nameless, faceless monster. The monster has a face and a name, and I can see him.” He broke off, his eyes going distant. Concerned, Robbie left his arm chair and sat down next to him, not touching, just needing to be close.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “It’s all right, James.” 

“I can see him now,” James said hoarsely. “And nothing can block that out again.”

“Nor should it,” Robbie said. “Learning to live with those memories is hard, and painful, but suppressing them is so much worse. Look where it led you in the past.”

“Oblivion,” James said thickly, and he turned and looked blankly at Robbie.

“No,” Robbie said firmly, cupping James’s cheek with his hand. “Look at me, James. Look at me.”

James frowned and focussed on him. “You don’t need oblivion, okay?” Robbie said firmly. “You have me. I’m here. And I’ll talk to you, or drink with you, or just listen to you if you need to talk. That’s how we’ll get through this.”

“You said you wanted to make love to me,” James said, his eyes burning. 

“Oh, James,” Robbie breathed, lifting his other hand, holding James’s face gently in his palms. “If that’s ever what you want, I’ll make love to you, I promise. And it’ll be gentle and sweet and we’ll smile and laugh our way through it. And it will be because we want it, not because we don’t want to think about something else. All right?”

James stared at him, that frown still between his brows, his pale blue eyes intense. “You were right,” he said thickly. “It’s there again. That urge to run, to drown myself in feeling.” He closed his eyes against Robbie’s gaze. “Don’t let me go, okay?”

“Never,” Robbie swore, and he pulled James’s head under his chin and held him there, suddenly remembering the night before. “Let me go,” James had demanded, and Robbie had told him. “Never.” Strong hands clutched at him and Robbie held him close as James breathed harshly, as if he’d been running hard. 

“I hate him,” James ground out against his throat. “I wish that bullet had killed him. I hate that he has memories of me in his head.” His hands twisted in Robbie’s shirt and Robbie stroked his back, trying to soothe him. “I want to rip those memories out of him, I want to kill him.”

“I know,” Robbie murmured. “I know. I do too. He’s an old man, James, an old man. He’ll die in jail and never hurt anyone again.”

“I shook his hand,” James said between his teeth. “I shook his hand and talked to him, and when I walked away I felt something. I don’t know.” He shook his head against Robbie’s shoulder. “Something sick inside me. I dismissed it, got on with my job.”

The hands finally loosened a little and Robbie took a relieved breath, still stroking James’s back with one hand, the other gently cupping the fragile nape of his neck.

“I went to bed with Scarlet,” James admitted. “I didn’t even want her. I should have known then that I was remembering.” He laughed bitterly. “Looking for oblivion in sex again.”

“She was using you,” Robbie said. “She doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

James drew back suddenly and stared at him, his eyes wet. “Do you think she was one of his victims too?” he said, face horrified.

Robbie grimaced. “One way or another, I think everyone there was.”

James looked devastated, and Robbie gently guided his head back to his shoulder, to lay there this time, rather than be buried in the curve to hide his tears. 

“When does this get better?” James asked. 

“It’ll take as long as it takes,” Robbie said. “But we’ll get through it.”

James drew back and looked at him searchingly. “We?”

“We,” Robbie said firmly. “You invited me in and now I’m here. I can’t walk away from this. I can’t walk away from you.”

“You might wish you had,” James warned him. “I’m so broken, Robbie. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” Robbie said gently. “But I disagree. You’re damaged, James. But you’re not broken.” He looked into James’s eyes, relieved that frightening blankness was gone, even if troubled pain had replaced it. Better to feel, even if the feeling hurt. Better to know than bury the knowledge. “I think you need to see Mortmaigne, James,” he said slowly.

James jerked in his arms. “What?”

“I think you need to look into the eyes of the monster, and see him for what he really is. I think that until you do, he’ll continue having power over you.”

James shook his head, eyes still wide with shock. “I don’t know,” he said, voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can.” He stared at Robbie desperately. “Do you really think I should?”

“I can only tell you how I felt when I looked at the man who killed my wife,” Robbie said, his hands stroking James’s forearms gently. “Seeing him for what he was, putting him in perspective. It helped,” he said simply.

James looked away, frowning. “I’ll think about it.”

888

James emerged from the bathroom, his face pink from scrubbing, his eyes a little swollen.

“All right now?” Robbie asked gently.

James sat down in the armchair, sinking his chin onto his chest. “Does terminal embarrassment count as being all right?”

“No call to be embarrassed, at least not with me. You went through hell as a child, James. And it’s affected your whole life. It’s all right to grieve for what might have been. It’s all right to be angry. It’s even all right to cry these days, all the magazines say so.” Robbie twinkled a smile at him. “And if not with me, then who?” 

“I’ve never asked anyone for anything,” James said. “Not since I was old enough to stand on my own two feet. Everything I’ve ever done I did on my own.”

“I know,” Robbie said, recalling he’d said something similar to Hooper just days before. 

“But I want to ask you now.”

“Ask then.”

“I… I’ve tried to do this alone, and I can’t. I’m so tired, Robbie. So tired of doing this alone. Will you help me?”

Robbie itched to pull him back into his arms, but it was clear that part of the evening was over. James was sitting straight backed, his reddened eyes clear, his jaw firm. Only the tremble in his fingers betrayed him.

“Yes,” Robbie said. “Anything you need.”

James’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Thank you.”

Robbie stood up briskly. “You’re welcome,” he said. “And now I need a cup of tea. More coffee would just keep me awake.”

“Tea sounds good,” James said. 

Robbie put the kettle on and grabbed two mugs, then he stood and frowned thoughtfully. “Will you kip here tonight?”

“I’d rather get home. Besides, your couch is too short for me.”

“It wasn’t built for beanstalks. I could…”

“I’m not putting you out of your bed,” James said. “I promise you, I’m okay now. I won’t be looking to self harm tonight.”

Robbie paused in the act of pouring the boiling water in the pot, feeling uneasy. “Maybe you could sleep in with me?” he suggested. “Platonically, of course. It’s a big bed.”

James lifted a brow. “It’s not that big. Anyway, I’m not sure us sleeping together platonically is an option after last night.”

Robbie clattered the mugs onto a tray and carried the lot into the living room. “I can control myself you know,” he said, a bit huffily.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” James said, sitting and taking one of the mugs. Robbie sat down with a bump and stared at him. James looked back. “Mixed messages, remember?” he said. “The last thing I want is to tempt you and then reject you. And I can’t guarantee that I won’t.”

Despite everything they’d said and done the night before, suddenly Robbie found his cheeks flooding with colour. He couldn’t help thinking of what James might do to tempt him, and a hundred images and memories flooded his mind.

“Quite,” James said wryly, pouring the tea.

“Um, okay,” Robbie said weakly. “Maybe sharing a bed isn’t a good idea.”

“Not yet anyway,” James said. 

Robbie sought for words and couldn’t find any, so he just contented himself with accepting the mug of tea and drinking it. 

888

 _“I’ve got a better idea,” Robbie said wickedly. He smoothed his hand over James’s heaving belly, then followed with his tongue, licking a broad stripe up his centre, tasting sweat and cum. He found a nipple and kissed it, suckling gently as James arched beneath him. “Put your hands over your head,” he ordered, stroking up James’s sides, under his arms and raising his hands. “Don’t let me hurt your shoulder,” he whispered, before laving the other nipple with his tongue._

_James squirmed under the attention, letting Robbie wrap one hand around his wrists and hold them immobile. “Stay right there,” Robbie ordered. “Don’t move.”_

_He scrambled from the bed and pulled open the drawer where he knew James kept his ties, organised by day of the week. He grabbed the next two days – lavender and platinum – and shook them both out. On the bed James watched him, belly still heaving, his half hard cock twitching. Robbie grinned and raised an eyebrow, and James licked his lips. A tie in each hand, Robbie stalked towards the bed._

Robbie woke with a start, sweat beading his brow, his cock rock hard in his pyjama pants. “Christ,” he moaned, reaching his hand into the placket and arching into his touch. 

Probably just as well James had gone home.

888

Robbie wasn’t sure what he expected the next morning, but in a way he wasn’t surprised when James met his cheerful greeting with one of his aloof looks. Back in the days before he’d had unexpected rough sex with his sergeant, Robbie would have recognised that James was in one of his Moods – and backed off accordingly. Generally they didn’t last long, and he could chivvy or joke him through them.

But today – post unexpected rough sex – Robbie recognised that James was embarrassed by the emotional scene the night before, and had withdrawn back inside himself. 

Robbie thought about it while he made himself a cup of tea, and decided he wouldn’t let their changed circumstances change his own tactics for dealing with his sergeant. 

So he didn’t.

No one had been conveniently murdered overnight, but there had been another in a series of armed robberies plaguing the Thames Valley region, so Robbie and James were drafted in to the latest briefing and given tasks. 

“Meet at the Oak for lunch and we’ll confer,” Robbie ordered. He knew James hated the Oak, so he waited to see if he would unbend long enough to complain about the venue. James set his jaw but simply nodded and stalked off, leaving Robbie grinning.

“You look a bit more cheerful today,” Innocent noted as she strolled down the hall towards him. 

“Give me a good old fashioned heist any time,” Robbie said. “That’s proper police work.”

“I gather the famously hard Lewis skull is still intact?”

“It is.”

“Just be careful,” Innocent pleaded, looking like she was only half joking. “One day it’ll be one hit too many, and then who will look after Hathaway?”

Robbie smirked. “Noticed the mood, did you?”

“The chill reached me even in my office. The gunshot wound giving him trouble?”

“He wouldn’t tell me if it was,” Robbie retorted. “I think he’s still coping with the last case, ma’am. He’ll be fine.”

Innocent patted his arm. “You’ll see him through it.” Again Robbie got the impression she knew, or suspected, more than she was saying. On impulse he seized the moment and nodded to his office. 

“Do you have time for a quick word, ma’am?”

Door closed behind them he launched into his request. “Would it be possible to speak to Mortmaigne in hospital?”

Innocent shook her head. “Not until he’s cleared by his doctor.”

“Not for an interview.” Robbie rubbed the back of his head. “James needs to see him. He needs to face him.”

Innocent studied him for a moment, then closed her eyes briefly with a sigh. “I see,” she said quietly. “I did wonder…” she frowned and looked at him again. “Do you think facing him is the right thing?”

Robbie nodded, wishing he was half as sure as he was making out. “I call him a monster, because of his monstrous crimes, but James needs to see him for what he is. What I saw the morning I arrested him. A pathetic, selfish old man.” 

Innocent studied him a few moments longer. “Let me know when James is ready and I’ll clear it with the detail guarding him,” she said. “And Robbie? I meant it, about taking care of him.”

Robbie nodded, again wishing he was as confident as he was pretending to be. “Way ahead of you, ma’am.” 

888

“Why do we keep coming here?” James said moodily into his glass. He took a sip and grimaced. “Even their ale is rank.”

Robbie took his own mouthful. “Tastes fine to me,” he lied cheerfully. “You feeling better?”

James stiffened. “Better than what?” he said coolly.

“Better than this morning,” Robbie said. “You looked like you were in a bit of a mood.”

“Did I?” James said uninterestedly. He flipped through his folder.

“You did,” Robbie confirmed. “I think it’s because you’re skipping the most important meal of the day. Black coffee and a cigarette does not replace a good breakfast.”

“Uh huh.”

“A hearty breakfast sets us up for the day, and makes sure we have the energy to keep pace with our busy schedules.”

James tapped his fingers on the table. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re mocking me?” 

“Because I am kind of,” Robbie admitted, and smiled when James scowled at him. “Come on, James. Seriously? You’re doing just what we joked about. You’re more embarrassed that you showed some actual emotions to me last night than you were about…” He trailed off, looking around the pub. “You know.”

“You can’t even say the words, and you’re laughing at me.”

“I can say it,” Robbie protested. “Just not in a crowded pub.”

“And it wasn’t showing emotions,” James said grimly. “It was a grown man sobbing on his bosses shoulder.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “Just kill me now.”

Robbie leaned over in the booth. “Last night I had a sex dream about you,” he hissed in his ear and James dropped his hand and stared at him in utter shock, his mouth hanging open. “There,” Robbie said in satisfaction, leaning back against the wooden wall. “Now you’ve got something to really be embarrassed about.”

James stared a moment longer and then closed his mouth with an audible click. “It’s like I don’t even know you,” he said blankly. 

Robbie smirked and sipped his pint. 

“Why would you even tell me that?” he whispered harshly.

Robbie shrugged. “To put the whole thing in perspective? Or maybe just because you annoyed me and I wanted a reaction.”

“Well, congratulations,” James said acidly. “You got one. And I annoyed you? How did I annoy you?”

“Talking to me like I’m a stranger, after everything that’s happened.”

“I was trying to maintain a professional distance at work,” James said through his teeth.

“No, you weren’t,” Robbie said, actually getting annoyed now. “You were shutting me out. You asked me for help and then regretted it, so you decided to give me the cold shoulder instead of talking about it like a grown up.”

“Oh, and you’re the expert on being a grown up?” James said hotly. “I’m sitting innocently drinking this lousy ale and you tell me you had a sex dream about me? What the hell, Robbie?”

“What the hell, James?” Robbie demanded. “You’re getting bent out of shape because you actually shared something important with me, and now you can’t stand to look me in the eye. The other night we fucked like rabbits, James. Compared to that what the hell are a few tears on my shoulder?”

Silence spread like a pool around them, and Robbie looked up to see a range of interested expressions from the neighbouring tables. “Oh, what are you looking at?” he demanded.

“Christ,” James muttered, getting up and stalking out of the pub.

“Bugger,” Robbie said, grabbing up the folder and following him.

Outside James was kicking repeatedly at a nice old sandstone wall. He spun on Robbie as he emerged from the dim pub. “Well, thank you very much,” he said angrily. “I can never go back to that pub again.”

“You hate that pub,” Robbie said defensively.

“That’s because it’s smells. And the tables are sticky. Am I supposed to be grateful you humiliated me in a pub I don’t like?”

“Better than one you do like.”

James just stared at him wordlessly for a moment then turned and bumped his head against the wall. “Why is this my life?” he moaned, bumping it again.

Robbie put hand between James’s forehead and wall. “Oi,” he protested. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

James turned at looked at him, his eyes brilliant with rage. “It’s not your job to put yourself between me and what hurts me.”

Robbie felt his temper flare back into life. “Fine,” he bit out. “Forget it. You asked me for help and now you’re pushing me away. Well, watch me walking.” He turned and stomped off. 

“Now who’s being childish?” James yelled after him and Robbie spun around. 

“Excuse me?”

“You promised to help me and now you’re just walking away the first time it gets hard? Well, thanks for nothing.” Now James stalked away and Robbie stood fuming for a minute before following him. He grabbed his arm and spun James to face him. 

“What do you want from me?” Robbie demanded. 

“You promised to help me,” James repeated furiously. “And then you walk away. Is that what your promises are worth?”

“How can I help you if you shut me out?” Robbie demanded.

James threw his hands up in the air. “How can you not get this? I’ve never willingly been this vulnerable with anybody. I’m scared, don’t you understand that? Scared of myself, scared of you, scared to face my demon after all these years. I’m sorry if I’m not skipping down the halls with a big smile on my face, just to make you feel better!”

“All right, all right,” Robbie said. “I get it. I was being facetious, and I shouldn’t have been. That’s just my way of coping, I suppose.”

James glared at him, not looking ready to forgive any time soon. “You seem kind of obsessed with having been inside me, Robbie,” he said coldly. “Well, a lot of men have been. Maybe I did issue the invitation – but you took me up on it pretty bloody enthusiastically.” He frowned ferociously. “How long are you going to throw it in my face?”

“I’m not, I promise I’m not,” Robbie said contritely. “It was a shitty thing to do, I’m sorry. And you’re right, I think I am kind of obsessed with that.” He looked embarrassed. “All those times I went off the rails looking for oblivion – I never asked for names, or looked into their eyes. I don’t think I even kissed them.” He grimaced. “I’m having trouble getting past how intense it all was.”

James breathed deeply, visibly calming down. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I get that. I guess I am too.”

“But I really shouldn’t have said what I did,” Robbie said, genuinely apologetic.”I’m sorry, James. Okay? And I’m sorry I walked away. All I saw was you shutting me out after we’d shared something so powerful, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“I told you I was broken,” James said. “I told you you’d regret it.”

Robbie carefully laid his hand on James’s stiff shoulder, patting him gently. “I don’t regret it,” he said. “I promise I don’t. I’m just not very good at this. The blind leading the blind,” he said wryly. 

“Well then we’re screwed,” James said. “Because I’m relying on you knowing what you’re doing.”

“No, you’re relying on me to read your mind,” Robbie said gently. “A couple of days of unexpected intimacy don’t cancel out the last five years you’ve kept me at arms length, James.”

James frowned, jaw clenched. 

“I’m just in the habit of poking at you a bit to get you to drop those walls. It’s a bad habit, and I promise I’ll try to stop doing it.”

James relaxed a bit and then nodded, still looking thoughtful. “I suppose I was a bit touchy,” he admitted. “I feel like one big exposed nerve.” He thrust his hands in his pockets, looking around the quiet street. “Let’s walk.”

They strolled along side by side, and Robbie darted a worried gaze at his companion now and then. He’d clearly mishandled the whole thing, and he flushed a little remembering the curious faces turned their way in the pub. Now neither of them could go back to the Oak.

“Frankly their ale is piss though,” he said aloud, and James snorted a laugh.

“Told you so,” he said. They walked in silence a bit longer, the lunchtime crowds of tourists thickening as they made their way to the more historical sections of the city. “It’s not just my little scene last night that had me freaking out,” he finally said.

“My suggestion about seeing Mortmaigne,” Robbie guessed, and James shot him a half irritated look. 

“You really do know me better than anyone else,” he said.

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“Only when you announce you’ve fucked me to a pub full of people.” Robbie bit his lip and James rolled his eyes. “I know you’re still laughing on the inside.”

“I’m not,” Robbie said defensively, then noticed the tiny smirk on James’s face. “Well. Their faces,” Robbie said, giving in. “You’ve got to admit, that was funny.”

“How did I never know you had a twisted sense of humour?”

“How did you describe me to Innocent that time? Enigmatic?”

James grimaced. “She told you that?” 

“After I told her I thought you were enigmatic,” Robbie confessed. “It seems we both have hidden depths.”

“If she only knew,” James quipped, and then they were both chuckling. “Well, now I’ve been publicly mocked and humiliated, what’s the plan for this afternoon?”

“How about seeing Augustus Mortmaigne?”

James stopped in his tracks. “No,” he said automatically. “I’m not ready.”

“It’s been twenty years, lad. When will you be ready?”

“They might not let us see him.”

“I’ve cleared it with Innocent. She’ll get us permission to talk to him, off the record. Just you and me.”

James stared at him, his face stark and vulnerable. Again Robbie was overcome with the urge to hug him, despite the fact that the lad towered a good three inches over him. “What will I say to him?”

“It’ll come to you,” Robbie reassured him, contenting himself with a pat on the arm. “And maybe you won’t want to say anything at all. Maybe you’ll just want to look at him. Face the monster.”

James took a deep breath. “All right.”

888

The closer they got to the hospital the more Robbie started doubting his instincts. What if he was wrong? What if seeing Mortmaigne again now just traumatised James even more? Why had he thought this was a good idea anyway?

He pulled into a police parking place at the hospital and just sat for a few moments, staring at the dull concrete wall in front of them. “If you don’t think you’re ready,” he said carefully. “I’m not going to pressure you any further.”

James was biting at his thumbnail and Robbie gently took his wrist in his hand and pulled it away from his mouth. This time he deliberately left his hand wrapped around James’s wrist, stroking the rapidly beating pulse point with his thumb. “All right?”

James looked at him, his face pale. “I don’t want to see him,” he said starkly. “I want to bury him again. I want to forget his face and his name, the way I have for the last twenty years.” He looked down blindly at Robbie’s hand and covered it with his own. “But I can’t,” he admitted. “Because he never really went away, did he? I’ve been letting what he did to me control my life. I’ve hated myself, blamed myself, and maybe I did that because I didn’t know who else to hate and blame.”

Robbie waited James out while he took a few more deep breaths, emotion moving in his breast. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, and James’s startled gaze flew to his. Robbie gently squeezed his hand. “No matter what happens next, this is the bravest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

James blinked in surprise, a small flush of pink tingeing his pale cheeks.

“Let’s get this over with, ey?” Robbie said, reluctantly pulling his hand from James’s skin. “And then we’ll go have a drink.”

“Or two,” James said, trying for a smile.

“But not at the Oak,” Robbie said, and the tentative smile blossomed.

Robbie exchanged a few quiet words with the constable at the door to the private room, and the young man nodded and opened the door for them. With one last nod at James Robbie let him walk past him, into the room, and then followed him, closing the door with a click and leaning back against it. 

Mortmaigne, yet to be officially charged with anything, seemed to be enjoying the comforts of his private room. A pile of books sat by his bed, and he himself was seated in an armchair, warmly wrapped in a luxurious dressing gown, the collar of a pair of satin pyjamas hugging his throat. He looked like an advertisement for some brand of expensive whiskey in a glossy magazine. 

He looked up from his book, peering across the room at them over his reading glasses. “James?” he said, smiling in delight. “How good of you to come visit me.” He looked past James towards Robbie, and the smile died on his lips. “This isn’t police business, I trust? I can’t be spoken to without my solicitor present.”

James walked slowly towards him, his back stiff, his hands loose by his sides. His young sergeant had a habit of slouching along, Robbie thought, but today he stood tall, even if his face was waxy pale. Again Robbie felt a surge of pride and affection. How much courage did it take to face one’s demons?

“I don’t know what I expected to feel,” James said slowly. “Scorn maybe? Seeing him old and sick and alone, this man who became a monster in my memory.” He shook his head, a puzzled frown on his brow. “But people get old, they get sick, they’re alone. They don’t deserve scorn for that.” 

Robbie realised he was talking to him, and not Mortmaigne. The old man obviously realised the same thing, and he frowned ferociously. “See here, James,” he began indignantly. 

“This man…” James interrupted, as if Mortmaigne hadn’t spoken. “This man killed my innocence. Stole my childhood. Haunted me, for decades.”

Mortmaigne drew in a harsh breath, shooting a look at Robbie. Robbie returned the look, his face expressionless. He was here for James, however James wanted to play it. He wouldn’t give Mortmaigne the satisfaction of a response.

“Even though I couldn’t see his face, didn’t remember his name,” James went on, staring at Mortmaigne, still that frown on his brow. “Even though I blocked him out completely. Still he was there, poisoning my life.Why did I let him do that? Why did I give him so much power over me?”

“James,” Mortmaigne said, visibly reining in his anger. “My dearest boy. Try to understand…”

“I’m not that damaged little child any more,” James said, his voice strengthening as he once more talked right over Mortmaigne. “He won’t ever hurt a child again, and I won’t let him keep hurting me. That finishes, today.”

Mortmaigne set his jaw and once again looked at Robbie. “Inspector,” he began angrily.

James shook his head, the blank look on his face turning to disgust. “This selfish coward isn’t worth the time I’ve wasted on him,” he said distastefully. “Why did I ever think he was? I will never look at his face again.” And with that he turned his back on the sputtering man and Robbie neatly stepped aside and opened the door for him to walk out.

“Inspector!” Mortmaigne said imperiously. “I demand…”

Robbie shut the door on his demands, nodded at the constable on the door, and followed James down the hall.

888

Outside the hospital James stopped, pushed his hands into his pockets and looked up at the sky. Robbie studied him closely, almost faint with relief at the natural wash of colour in his skin, the easy line of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled a little at the corners as he studied the tiny white clouds in the high, blue sky.

“All right, James?” 

James breathed in deeply. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I’m all right.”

An ambulance siren sounded in the distance, and behind them the automatic doors opened and closed as people came and went in the busy hospital.

“Let’s find a quiet pub, eh?” Robbie suggested. “And you can tell me how you feel.” 

James gave him a glance and Robbie caught his breath at the fond smile in his eyes. “Another heart to heart?” he asked wryly.

“If you like. Or we can just drink and stare at the river. Whatever works.” 

James looked back up at the pretty blue sky, and then nodded. “Both,” he decided.

888

They sat on the bench seat, back to the table, nursing their pints as they looked out on the flowing river. The afternoon was still early. Despite the intensity of the hospital visit, it was not much more than an hour since they’d left The Oak. The lunch crowd was just starting to thin around them, but the smell of fish and chips competed with the scent of golden crusty meat pies, and Robbie felt his stomach rumbling. 

“You were right,” James said suddenly. “About seeing him. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next, but it was the right thing to do.”

“You faced your demon,” Robbie said gently. “Not everyone gets to do that. I faced mine only because you gave me the chance.”

“Makes us even. I’m not sure I’d have had the courage to face him alone.”

“You’re not lacking in courage, James,” Robbie said stoutly. “You just have to figure out how to forgive yourself for the things you did to survive.”

James slanted him a glance, his cheeks going pink. 

“I meant blocking him out of your memory,” Robbie said, nudging him with his shoulder. “But yeah, that too.”

“Have you forgiven yourself for what you did to survive?” 

Robbie thought about it. “Honestly? No. I don’t think I have. I haven’t reached out to my son. I’ve got a sort of a relationship with my daughter, but it’s still a lot more distant than it should be. Maybe it’s time I changed that.”

James nodded. 

“I also…” Robbie broke off, shaking his head. “Never mind, this isn’t about me.”

“It’s about us,” James said, turning on the bench to face him. “What were you going to say?”

“Well,” Robbie said, hunching his shoulders a little. “I was so angry at myself for the way I behaved, I think I went too far the other way. I can drink again, and not let myself be controlled by drink, but when it comes to sex.” He huffed out an embarrassed breath, avoiding James’s eyes. “I shut myself down completely.”

“Because it was gay sex?” James guessed, and Robbie grimaced.

“Too bloody clever by half, you.”

“Who would understand better than me?” James said, reminding him of his own words. “That night we had together, it was a revelation, wasn’t it?”

Robbie finally let himself look into James’s eyes, and relaxed a little at the warm understanding there. “You wanted to punish yourself, but I just wanted you,” he admitted, ashamed. “I was protecting you, I was trying to give you something better than you thought you wanted.”

“You did,” James said firmly.

“But in the end it was about me. That desire I’d been pushing down, rejecting, hating myself for.” 

“We both went into it for selfish reasons,” James agreed. “And we could have let it destroy our friendship, end our working relationship. But we haven’t, we’ve used it to get closer, to help each other. You’ve helped me,” he finished simply.

Robbie took a deep breath. “I’m glad. You’ve helped me too.” At that moment his stomach rumbled again, out loud this time, and James looked startled, then started chuckling. 

“I think the beast needs feeding.”

“You must be hungry as well,” Robbie defended. 

“I could eat.” James stood. “Why don’t I see what they have left?” He stood up but then paused, looking down at Robbie sitting on the wooden bench as the everyday life of the pub moved colourfully around them. “This forgiving ourselves thing,” he said. “How do we do that?”

“One day at a time?” Robbie suggested.

“But together, right?”

Robbie smiled into James’s blue eyes, his heart lifting at the shy, hopeful gaze. “Yes. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episode 2:03 ‘Life Born of Fire’ and episode 4:01 ‘Dead of Winter’
> 
> Warning. Mention of child abuse. Mention of self harm.


End file.
